Editorial Decisions
by DrawMeASheep
Summary: McGee has a chat with his editor about the plot of his novel.


Disclaimer: NCIS is property of the citizens of Green Bay, Wisconsin, the only show on television to be owned by…wait. For the intents and purposes of this disclaimer, we'll just define me as a non-citizen of Green Bay.

Spoilers: Cover Story, specifically. Er…nothing but general NCIS-ness otherwise.

Summary: McGee has a chat with his editor about his WIP. Is it bad karma to write a one-shot about a WIP? Eh, I could just make a list, I suppose. Anyway, he's still experiencing the block-that-shall-not-be-called-writer's and his editor is eager for a big fat payday, er, manuscript.

* * *

McGee dropped his head into his hands and rubbed his face vigorously. He could feel Lyndi Crawshaw's eyes boring into the top of his skull as she waited for an answer to her question. Ever since things had gone so terribly wrong with _Rock Hollow_, she had been a lot less indulgent with his current snail's pace. He reflected that, if nothing else, these meetings with his editor had given him a special appreciation for what suspects went through during an interrogation. He finally looked up and said, "I honestly don't know."

"Try again. It's a very simple question. How does the story end?"

"How am I supposed to come up with an ending?" He stood and thought about pacing around the room, but her icy glare prompted him to sit back down. He twiddled his thumbs instead as he went on, "I don't even like the beginning or middle at this point! Not to mention the weirdness with the whole characters coming to life that happened a few months ago. How am I supposed to keep writing about things that have actually happened to real people?"

"Yes, _how_ can you write about real people?" she muttered, flipping through the scanty number of pages he'd brought with him. "I really don't see a problem with anything but the ending. And we can always put a positive spin on that wacko – if you're lucky, you'll be crying on Oprah's shoulder about how you never meant for anyone to get hurt and you wish he'd never gone through your trash and dug out your notes."

"Typewriter ribbons," he corrected.

"Can't you afford a computer?" She held up a hand. "Spare me the sob story about the clickity-clack of the typewriter keys being good for your creative juices. I don't care if you smash you head against the keyboard and hope coherent sentences are formed. Let's just focus on how we can get you over your writer's block and get this thing published."

He cringed. "Please don't call it that."

"Sorry, this _novel_ published."

"I meant…" He briefly wondered if saying the words out loud was the equivalent of telling actors 'good luck' on opening night. He bowed his head again. "Never mind."

"Right. So, have you thought about maybe adding a little subplot to get things going again? Something you can develop in the third book?"

"You want me to add another case? Won't that get confusing?"

"Yes. Which is why I'm not suggesting that. I was thinking about something on a more personal level. Have you thought about adding a romantic relationship? Not that weird thing you threw in with Tibbs and that Army woman who came out of nowhere, but something between the main characters?"

He swallowed as he considered the possibilities, neither of which he would look forward to putting into print. He opted for the lesser of two evils, asking, "You mean McGregor and Amy? Because I had been mulling that over…"

"You mean the boring, predictable happily ever after? No, if this series is going to continue, you need something with more conflict. I was thinking more along the lines of Tommy and Lisa."

"You're joking, right?"

"What? There's a lot of tension there, and it can translate into some very hot scenes. Hey, maybe a sex scene is what you need to get you back on track."

"No. No." McGee bit his lip and considered for a moment. "No!"

Lyndi tapped her chin thoughtfully with her pen. "Yes, this could work."

"Trust me. It couldn't."

"Not a long-term relationship, not yet. But maybe a one-night stand that one or both of them end up regretting. Just make it hot and heavy. You readers will eat it up and beg for more."

"How can you be sure?"

"Who besides you stands to make a killing when _Rock Hollow_ becomes a bestseller? You can accuse me of looking out for my own interests all you want, but remember…"

"Right." He felt his resolve weakening. Lyndi just wanted to turn a profit. On the other hand, what was money if you'd been stabbed or shot too many times to enjoy it? And those were only the ways he knew Ziva could kill people; there was no telling what kind of Moussad tricks she could have up her sleeve of death. Of course, Ziva wouldn't find out about the book for months and Lyndi was staring daggers at him now. He sighed. "Where would I even start?"

"You're supposed to be the writer, but if you want a poke in the right direction… 'Tommy pushed Lisa back onto Tibbs' desk and yanked her shirt over her head. The sight of her ample, heaving bosom finally bared caused his throbbing, engorged member demand to be released from the trousers of his expensive suit.' And then, I don't know, Tibbs can catch them going at it and…"

McGee shuddered as the image burned itself into his brain. "Tibbs would kill them."

"Or McGregor can catch them. Yes, that's better, because you'll need them for the next book. Anyway, you might get a lot of mileage out of his prudish attitude." She stood and gestured toward the door. "Well, this has been a productive conversation. I want to see the drafts on this in two weeks. Make an appointment."

The moment McGee had closed the door behind himself, Lyndi picked up the phone and dialed the number she'd been instructed to call. The line connected on the second ring. "Abby Sciuto, NCIS forensics lab."

"Miss Scuito, this is Lyndi Crawshaw."

"Oh! Hey. How'd your meeting with McGee go?"

"I discouraged him from developing the plotline we discussed."

"Excellent!"

"I even suggested he replace it with a Tommy and Lisa storyline."

"Really? How are you not the writer? What a great inspiration! You have no idea how much fun that's going to be when _Rock Hollow_ hits the shelves!"

"Yes." Lyndi paused, hoping that now was the moment to request her due compensation. "So I've done what you wanted. When can I pick up my cat?"

"I'll bring him by your office later today. And don't worry – I haven't been starving him like I said I was. In fact, he really likes chasing my little plastic head on a sting, so I'm gonna leave that in his carrier for him, too. Thanks, Lyndi!"


End file.
